Chain Invitation
This stuff right here is not a poem - it just rocked up in front of me and I honestly have no idea what its supposed to be - maybe a short story.
Anyhu - here it is...
She sat there. Her buttocks numb from the cold wet tar.
She looked as far as her eyes could take her, then down at her bruised wrists. One by one she replayed the brutal scenes of the last few hours in her mind.
Those four men. They did it. Those four men, no - SAVAGE DOGS! did it. They took turns.
Her legs trembled. Her thighs throbbed, Before she knew it her eyes pissed. First in clumsy squirts, then slowly, gradually they became rhythmic. No. Monotonous.
She sat upright, her back oblivious to the wet wall it leaned on
She dragged her knees up to her chest, hugging her calves as if in a delayed attempt to shield herself from the bitter world.
She saw them again - those four men. The torn cap. the over-worn converse takkies, the yellow jacket and that unbearable stench of sweaty underarms.
**Who wants to continue?***
Copyright © Tshego Khumalo | Year Posted 2013
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